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Eecee

"What it stands for depends on what I want you to think about me. Clever, don't you think?"

1 · 38 views · located in The Infinite Void

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by AugmentationAudit

Description

The product of magic and a great deal of determination. It is easy to forget that this capable little creature is little more than a child.

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His actual body is malformed and decidedly ugly, lacking the finesse that his father clearly intended to give him. Instinctively, he tries to hide himself using magic that he doesn't understand, though the results are often ugly and poorly constructed.

After an encounter with his mother, he has been given a human form that is more stable and fitting, though he still remains poorly formed and fragile underneath.

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So begins...

Eecee's Story

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Eecee appeared, testing his limits so to speak.

The setting changes from wing-city-gardens-north to Gambit's Bar

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A strange little creature appeared in the bar, crouched at the bottom of the stairs where there had only been empty air a second before. For a moment, it looked like a hunched, twisted amalgamation of a deflated butterfly and a partially developed human foetus, green veins lividly visible through transparent flesh, before its form melted into something new.

Childlike and small, it stepped down, still marked with green veins but a little more human in appearance, creased wings folded away out of sight, little webbed hands stuffed into the front pocket of a large hooded sweater. It blinked fluid green eyes, lids flicking horizontally rather than vertically, before tripping into the room proper.

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Eecee surveyed the room in something close to confusion, looking just a little lost as his eyes flicked from face to face. Even with his shoulders hunched protectively, the external nature of his spinal complex was clearly visible through his clothing, the thick, ridged tail that extended from this curling nervously between his legs to lock between uncertain hands.

Whatever he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it in the room, much to his apparently dismay. Beneath his sweater, his wings twitched and fluttered, but couldn't move fully or break free, still far from developed enough to facilitate flight.

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Eecee had sat himself down under one of the unoccupied tables, occupying his wandering attention with an interesting beer spill. Webbed fingers painted strange patterns in the stick liquid, drawing smirking faces and little stick-animals. He seemed bored, but unwilling to interact with the larger people in the room.

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Eecee scowled petulantly at the floor, little hands poking crossly at what was left of a beer-spill picture that had possibly been a cat at some point. His picture had gone wrong, the room was loud and boring, and nobody was paying attention to him; in short, EC was not happy.

With a furious little scowl, he thumped his hands down on the floor, causing a table across the room to disintegrate into splinters without warning. It didn't make him feel any less cross, but it did make several people back away in alarm, which stopped him being bored.

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Eecee scowled furiously at his bare feet for a moment, long, webbed toes flexing crossly. He didn't like being told off, even if it didn't sound like being told off. He didn't like ladies with high-heeled shoes, especially ones who tried to tell him off. They were often social workers, and EC did not like social workers at all.

"Go away," he snapped, clicking his fingers angrily in an attempt to set the woman's hair on fire. He'd given that a try before, with limited success; the last social worker he'd tried to light on fire had only lost an eyebrow, but even that had shut her up.

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Eecee wanted desperately to stomp his feet and scream, because that's what he did when people said no to him, even when they did it using big, confusing words like this woman was using. Instead, he scowled, assuming that his snapping-fire hadn't worked.

At last he looked up, glowering at the woman with a vicious little frown on his face, and snapped his fingers again. "I'm not a sweetheart. I'm not a love. I'm not little and I don't like you."

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Eecee was shocked enough by the appearance of Absinthe's wings to lose his grip on the image he was clinging to, reverting almost at once to small, naked and odd, decidedly inhuman with his stubby, folded little wings twitching faintly. Huge green eyes stared up at her, frown becoming more pronounced at he looked her over.

"You're horrible," he said quietly, reaching out to tug on one of her wings with a hooked hand. "I want your wings."

Well-adjusted EC most certainly was not.

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Eecee tried to ward her off with a fierce little growl, fingers poised to snap again. There wasn't a great deal that he could do against this woman, but he was still young enough to believe that he was powerful enough to challenge her.

"I'm not ugly!" He was. "And I don't come from a nest!" Little arms folded petulantly. "I don't like you. You're the rudest social worker I've ever met." Usually, that would have been a compliment, but right now EC didn't feel all that complimentary.

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Eecee glared some more while he thought her offer over. He knew not to follow strangers (though he had never been taught not to set them on fire in any way that stuck), but she was interesting, this annoying woman who didn't seem to be a normal social worker. EC didn't like being bored... he frowned a little more.

"I'm not lost," he grumbled, accepting the woman's hand, making it quite clear that he was doing so grudgingly. "Nobody lost me, and I don't want to go back to anywhere either. So there."

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Eecee snapped back to an almost-human disguise as soon as he was out from under the table. It seemed to be a purely subconscious action; one second, an ugly, wrinkled little something was holding Absinthe's hand, the next she was being watched by a wary, decidedly unattractive little boy in a jumper and jeans.

EC had never spent a great deal of time looking at himself, to the extent where he was only partially aware of his own appearance, and his knowledge of the magic it took to hide himself was scarce at best. His control also seemed decidedly awry; he bled febrile magic, sickly and badly controlled.

"I like adventures. And setting people's heads on fire," he told her, large green eyes narrowed into a challenging scowl. He wanted her to disapprove; he'd set her head on fire if she tried.

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Eecee nodded thoughtfully, his scowl still firmly in place. He didn't like this woman talking to him like he was stupid, but she wasn't telling him off for liking to set people's heads on fire, which was a first.

"...you had better not be a psycho-hologist," he grumbled before whipping around as someone else spoke.

"Go away!" He didn't want anyone else talking to this lady because he was talking to her. It wasn't fair that someone else got to take his attention away. This was his conversatoin, not some other person's.

Angrily, EC snapped his fingers, fully intending to set Allister Amet's head on fire.

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Eecee continued to glower at the invader, despite having paled to an unhealthy greenish hue, breathing quickly as invisible wings twitched and buzzed, urging his heart to beat faster. He was hemorrhaging magic, far too young and improperly formed to disguise himself for any length of time, let alone pyrocast.

"Go away." He scowled a bit more, just to make sure Allister Amet knew not to mess with him, before turning to stare at Absinthe. "I'll shout if I want. I don't like him." He raised his fingers as if to snap again.

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Eecee stuck his tongue out at Absinthe to show her just what he thought about that. If he wanted to shout, he'd shout, so there, and no nasty not-social-worker was going to stop him. She was horrible, he decided, but he liked her for being mean to the man he didn't like... it was confusing. EC grumbled quietly and sat down on the floor, sulking.

Rooms full of people tended to make him feel ill, and this room was no different; he felt funny and wanted to go home, but couldn't quite work out how to get home. In his partially formed mind, EC clung to some memories more than others; he knew that somewhere was home, though home tended to be different on different days. He wasn't sure exactly what home even meant, but he wanted it.

"I want to go home."

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Eecee didn't know what she was talking about, but shuffled over all the same, planting himself in a little pile at Absinthe's feet. He was tired, and didn't like crowds, or having to set people's heads on fire because they were stupid...

He didn't much like being called ugly either, but he didn't snap his fingers; he was suddenly very sleep, and couldn't bring himself to be bothered. "Not ugly," he grumbled automatically; he didn't actually know what he looked like, nor did he spare it much thought.

"Take me home."

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"I like green..." EC said vaguely, swaying sideways as an odd sort of feeling crept across his skin, working its way into his mouth, down his throat. He panicked a little when he felt his tail and wings wither away into the odd feeling, fearful that his hands and feet would soon go the same way, but moments later the feeling abated without him loosing further limbs.

Anxiously, he reached up, aware that his hands felt small and wrong, and poked at his shoulders, swallowing. "Feels strange." His chest didn't hurt like it did when people pressed down on his shoulders, making it seem as though his wings weren't there- he didn't understand what had happened to him.

"I don't like it." It was unsettling, but it didn't hurt, and he actually felt less ill once whatever it was stopped happening. It usually took Calpol to make the nasty feeling leave, but this woman had done it with just at touch... "Was that Calpol? I didn't see a spoon..."

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Eecee stretched his arms up to be lifted, quite familiar with the gesture. This made sense; when he felt strange and not-good, he would be picked up, fed Calpol, and cared for. That was how things worked, no matter how muddled and weird his memories of such things were.

"I still want proper Calpol," he told her, settling naturally into her hold. EC was not a creature who formed human attachments; he was too young in the scheme of things, his mind not developed enough to tell one person from the other with any clarity.

As soon as he was into her arms, he relaxed, drooping happily. This was how it was supposed to be: comfortable, cared for, protected, and he felt better almost at once as a defensive line of magic petered away to nothing. He didn't need to attract a mother figure once he had one.

EC didn't want to go home any more; as far as he was concerned, he was already there.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Gambit's Hotel, 2nd Floor

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Eecee rolled his head to the side at the mention of names, craning his neck so that he could see Absinthe better. His eyes, though vague, were slowly focussing into something close to intelligence, though the extent of that intelligence was debatable. "I'm called Eeceetee," the child chirped, "And I'm a boy one."

EC wasn't looking, but if he had been he might have seen the faintly stricken look on Trephan's face, but as it was he was suitably distracted by the woman holding him. Small minds and the like.

"I think it already has a name then," Trephan said faintly. "Though I would hardly blame you if you wanted to change it."

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Once the world had shrunk itself back down to a more comfortable size, and the stranger was blocked from view, EC was content to settle, though his wary tension indicated that he was not yet calm about the presence of someone he didn't know so close.

"That looks like a social worker," he hissed, little eyes narrowed. "Make it leave. Made him go away. Set his head on fire and throw him out of the window!"

Outside of the nest, Trephan was quite capable of hearing his child (the child), and actually thought the little bastard had a point. Setting the man on fire was likely a good idea.

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Eecee meanwhile seemed pleased with his new mother's threats, eyes closing contentedly. "Can I watch? I'd like to watch." A human conscience was something he had never possessed, nor been taught how to mimic. "Can I watch while you throw him out the window?"

The setting changes from gambits-hotel-2nd-floor to Gambit's Bar

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Eecee skittered down the stairs and landed messily in the room, looking for all the world like a small, innocent child. In the months since he had received this form from his mother, he had become very fond of it; he drew far less attention when properly dressed. Not that Eecee enjoyed being ignored; as a matter of fact there was very little he hated more than people not paying attention to him. However, there was something to be said for being able to remain undetected.

He wasn't really in the mood for sneaky, though, so he chose to wander into the room looking lost and plaintive, his big, sad eyes welling with tears. "Hello...? Has anyone seen my mum?"

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Eecee peered mournfully up at the woman who had come to rescue him, his little face wrinkling at the sight of her tears. "Why are you crying?" he asked, with just the faintest trace of a waver in his voice. "Has something happened to my mum, is that why you're sad? She was here, not very long ago, I know she was." It had been more than a little while, but Eecee's sense of time was rather abstract; he had never learned how to work a clock.

"My mum's really beautiful. She took me away from the social workers, and she told me all about my dad. He's not around, though. Mum says he's a waste of space. I think that means he isn't around here anymore. Is my mum a waste of space too?"

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Eecee was happy to lean into the arm that was placed around his shoulders; chill to the touch, he enjoyed the offered body heat. There was nothing like a complaint as he was steered across the bar and prompted to sit down with his little legs swinging. Eecee looked up at his would-be rescuer again. "I hope she comes back soon. I'm tired and I'm hungry and I don't know where she's gone."

Eecee pouted, little lip sticking out and brow furrowing into a frown. "Mum won't tell me much about him. But she told me he was a waste of space. Do you know what that actually means? She would never tell me..."

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"Are they going to have sex?" Eecee asked with all the bluntness of a child, his eyes having strayed to the couple at the bar who had drawn Davina's attention. He sounded curious rather than disgusted, which suggested he had no real idea of what he was talking about. "I want pizza. And chips with curry sauce; I love chips. But I want the little ones, the finger sized ones, not those horrible big ones that taste really nasty and are squishy in the middle. Those are gross. And I want coke. Or cream soda. Or both. And I want a chocolate cheesecake for pudding! I love chocolate cheesecake!"

Eecee clearly had something of a short attention span when there was the offer of food.

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Eecee was more than happy at the prospect of food being forthcoming, even if it wasn't pudding for the main course. If left to his own devices, he would have quite happily eaten chocolate cheesecake until he felt sick and ignored the main course entirely. However, like social workers, adults tended to say no to things like that.

"I think they are going to have sex," he said, once the distraction of food had past. "Mum does that all the time. She says it's how she makes her money. We need money to buy pretty things."